


Prayers and Thoughts of Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan During His Journey North

by mlyn



Category: 13th Warrior (1999)
Genre: Historical, M/M, Slash, Vikings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-04
Updated: 2009-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlyn/pseuds/mlyn





	Prayers and Thoughts of Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan During His Journey North

Daily I pray to God to save me from these barbarians.

I have traveled with them from just outside Kherson, following the rivers north for many weeks. I am beginning to lose count of the days, but I believe at least fifty have passed. But, God help me, we are slowing in our journey. It is becoming more difficult to find food, and the climate is cold here. Never have I felt such cold.

The Northmen bear it well, having come from cold places. When not riding, they occupy themselves with drinking and cavorting. I find myself without such energy when we are done riding for the day, and so I stay near the fire. Because there are so many of us, and I do not feel comfortable shoulder to shoulder with these strange, rough men, I do not get as close as I like, so I am often chilled.

Their feelings toward me are understandable. They know nothing of me, and I am only here because their witch demanded it. They are as confused as I, not knowing why I must come on this endeavor, not knowing what lies in store for me or what purpose I will serve. Yet, even knowing that we have this in common, I am not comforted. The Northmen go out of their way to torment me. It is difficult to remember the teachings of the prophet Mohammed when I am subjected to their cruelty.

Perhaps this is the will of God, to strengthen my body and mind against the actions of my enemies. I have only one comfort, and that is the protection of the Northman Herger.

I believe that the leader, Buliwyf, commanded Herger to protect me. I saw Buliwyf speak to him as we were leaving the traders' camp on the first day. Herger looked back at me, and nodded to Buliwyf, and then held back his horse until I caught up to him. He said nothing to me then, but rode with me in silence until we stopped to make camp that night. And so every day has gone. Sometimes Herger speaks to me, but I do not yet know his native tongue, and I am sadly ignorant in the common languages of Greek or Latin. My father always scolded me for my inattention to my studies, and now I see, for good reason. Herger and I are able to convey a word or two, but the inability to converse in a meaningful way wears on me.

And when camp is made and the Northmen settle around their fire, when there is nothing to keep their attention, they sometimes turn their attention to me.

* * *

We were having the evening meal. Hyglak looked at the bowl of soup offered by Haltaf, the youngest of we thirteen warriors, and turned up his lip. Using his axe-head hand, that terrible appendage, he pushed the bowl aside and spat out: " _Jeg skal ikke ete denne. Gi dette til Araberen. Han skal ete hundkjøtt._ " And he took a hunk of bread and sat down.

Several of the Northmen laughed at this. Herger looked at me. Haltaf looked at Hyglak, then at me, and served up another bowl. He brought it to where I was sitting.

The soup smelled foul. It was from the bottom of the pot, congealed gravy and lumps of gristle and stringy meat clinging to bones that he had pushed aside when serving the Northmen. And judging from Hyglak's reaction, I was right to assume that it was disgusting.

But I was more worried because of the words I could discern. He had said the word for eating, and the word for dog. In fact, he has said the word for meat right after the word for dog. What in the name of God were they eating?

The boy still stood over me, offering the bowl. Hyglak was staring, and now the others were paying their attention. I shook my head, my movement jerky with apprehension.

Hyglak rose and dropped his bread onto his saddle. He came around the fire to me, moving quickly with anger. The boy scrambled out of his way. I gripped my knees with both hands, trying desperately not to flee like a coward. Behind Hyglak, I could see that Herger was on his feet.

Hyglak snatched the bowl out of the boy's shaking hands. " _Spis_!" he snarled at me, and threw the bowl at my feet. The liquid splashed onto my robes, the hunks of meat and onion scattering. The other Northmen began yelling their approval. I did not move.

My face burned so hot that I wondered if the soup had splashed that far. I looked down and began picking the meat off my clothing.

Satisfied with his humiliation of me, Hyglak returned to his seat. Weath was beside himself with laughter, nearly falling over, hysterical.

" _Stopp_." At that low command, everyone looked up. Buliwyf was standing on the other side of the fire. He was looking at Weath.

Weath let out another chuckle, then coughed and concentrated on his drink. Satisfied, Buliwyf sat again.

I could not sit there with wet garments stinking of soup. I carefully rose and departed, walking into the darkness to where I knew the riverbank to be.

Gradually the sounds of the camp faded away, and the glow of the fire as well. I was nearly to the river when I tripped on a clump of grass and fell to my knees, tangled in my own clothing. My hands and knees squished into riverbank mud.

I cursed involuntarily, and then I swallowed hard and clenched my teeth. I was unhurt. I had no cause dishonor myself with low language. I may be afraid and alone, but these are mere annoyances to a man of my standing. I pushed to my feet and went to the river.

 

Using only the light of the moon, I squatted by the bank and washed my hands, then took off my dishdashah. It had been soiled the worst with mud and soup. I waded out into the river and dunked it in the water, scrubbing the fabric against itself, working out the filth. Finally I wrung it out and slung it over my shoulder. It would dry quickly, being fine wool.

As I waded back to the bank, I noticed someone standing there. My heart leaped into my throat, thinking it was Hyglak come to torment me further, but I realized that the pale face was framed by wild light-colored hair. Herger.

"Eben," he said only, as I came to a stop in the shallows. The moonlight illuminated enough for me to see the glimmer of honest curiosity in his eyes.

"Herger," I returned. I put strength into my voice and stood tall, straightening my shoulders.

He looked at me for a long, measuring moment, and then nodded and stood by. I walked forward. He let me pass.

His concern, if that is what this meant, was touching, if oddly direct.

* * *

Herger never stopped the things that the other Northmen did to have their fun at my expense. I know that I am the butt of their jokes by the hour. Even while I have to listen to them say " _Araberen_ " so often, at the same time I learn new words and murmur them to myself to memorize. But there is ever some new phrase uttered that I cannot comprehend.

Of late my sometimes companion, Herger, has been more absent from the campfire. He joins us for meals, but makes his bed a distance away. The second time I noticed this, I saw that Roneth was also making his bed with Herger. The other Northmen talked about them while they were gone. I did not understand what they said, but I heard the names of Herger and Roneth.

The third time this happened, I saw the act of their departure. Herger whistled to Roneth and tilted his head, and the two got up and took some of their things with them as they went into the darkness. I could only just make out their forms as they set their things down on the ground.

Skeld said something to me, although he knows I cannot understand them. This is one of their games, to talk to my face, mocking my ignorance. Someday I will show them how much I have learned, but that day is not today.

From what he said, I recognized their crude word for coitus. The others laughed, but Weath jumped up and grabbed Haltaf, stood behind him and said something, then mimed sexual congress from behind. The laughter was more raucous. Haltaf broke from Weath's grip and shoved him, sending Weath sprawling. Rethel cheered at this. I think Haltaf and Rethel may be kin.

Then I looked to Roneth and Herger again, understanding what they were doing. I shook my head, my emotions mixed. What they were doing is frowned upon in the Arab world, but it happens. What was more, I felt empathy to them. Now, to me, Roneth seemed a gentler person for seeking out comfort, and Herger for giving it. How different that seemed from the normal behavior of these rough people. I envied Roneth, a little.

Roneth and Herger were back with the other men and had the fire going strong by the next dawn. I looked carefully at Herger as he ate a morning meal and packed his saddlebags, but nothing seemed different. He was relaxed, cheerful as always, and rebuffed the teasing comments directed toward him.

As I was about to give up hope of figuring this out, Herger turned and saw me watching. His smile faded for a moment, then brightened again, and he returned my gaze steadily. Ashamed for having been caught staring, I lowered my eyes.

Herger laughed low, to himself.

* * *

Edgtho was speaking to Rethel. "Herger smiles at the Arab."

I raised my head at his words. They had been uttered low, and I had not meant to listen, but since I now know those words, I could not help but hear.

Edgtho saw me watching, and a confused frown crept onto his face. Rethel turned to follow his gaze. Then they turned their backs on me and walked away.

It has been getting easier to find the words that I know and to learn others, but then I realize that I do not want to hear what they have to say. Of what import was Herger smiling at me?

I finished loading my saddlebag and mounted, wanting to be ready to ride.

"It will be little time yet," Edgtho's voice drifted to my ears, and Rethel chuckled. And here was another challenge: understanding the words, but not the meaning. I tried to put the overheard conversation out of my mind.

I decided some time ago that I would not tell them how much I understood until I understand it all. They would exploit whatever weakness there was in my comprehension. Now I wondered how close I was to being able to reveal myself.

I tested myself throughout the day of riding. I identified and learned new words for the animals we saw, the type of terrain, the number of each warrior as he had volunteered for the task ahead. My vocabulary is limited from being surrounded by the same people and things each day, so I pay particular attention when we are in towns and settlements, to hear new words from my companions. Now that we have been traveling for some one hundred days— _én hundre dager_ , I reminded myself—we are deep within the wilds of the north. Villages are plenty here, but the people are poor and sadly uneducated. But they also speak words similar to the Northmen's language, so it is helpful to listen even to them.

We rode on, ever onward, until the sun passed its zenith and began to sink again. Still we rode, until evening— _kveld_ , in their language. Finally, as darkness fell, we stopped and made camp. Now accustomed to the way the Northmen set up camp, I took responsibility for my own possessions, unloading my horse and making a nest of a bedroll and my saddlebags. A few of the men would get a pot on to boil or start some meat over the fire, so I waited for food. They never asked me to cook for them. Perhaps they did not want to engage me in words they think I would not understand, but more likely they did not want to eat the food I would prepare.

"Eben."

Herger's voice shocked me out of my concentration. I turned hastily. He was standing in the falling darkness behind me.

Herger tilted his head. When I did not react, he bent and grabbed my sleeve, tugging until I stood. He gestured at my bedroll.

I hesitated. In a way I was pleased, thinking that Herger trusted me to share this experience. But I was also aware of how some think of these sexual experiences, and I did not want to make myself more of an outcast than I already was.

I shook my head.

He shrugged and hitched his saddlebags more firmly onto his shoulder, walking away a few strides. I followed, wanting to make it clear that I was not rejecting him, only what he was proposing.

He seemed pleased that I had followed, and gave me a smile as I sat next to him. He began handing me things from his saddlebags, small amounts of provisions, and then a small pot. I understood and began to put together a simple stew as he started a fire. It pleased me to be asked to make food, even if it was just dried rabbit meat and onions.

Eventually the fire was burning well and the stew bubbling. I drank water— _vann_ —and Herger drank his ale. I relaxed, knowing that Herger would not become angry with me for little reason, would not use me for his own sport.

As Herger began to dish out the stew, I bent my head and silently prayed. It wore on me to be unable to pray properly five times a day, but from the prophet's teachings I believe that Allah would forgive this if I remained faithful to Him in heart, if not in deed.

I opened my eyes and found Herger holding out a bowl for me. He was watching me steadily, eyes sharp and assessing calmly. I nodded my thanks and took the bowl.

As we sat around our fire— _fyr_ —and after finishing our meal— _måltid_ —my eyes grew heavy. Herger rinsed out the bowls and pot while I hugged my knees, settling down to watch the fire. In the back of my mind was the thought of my bedroll. I knew I should go to it eventually, but I didn't know how to leave Herger's fire without seeming ungrateful or rude.

Herger got up, tossed out the wash water and put the cooking things back in his bags, then walked around the fire toward me. I paid him no mind, believing that he was going into the woods to relieve himself. But then he dropped to his knees next to me with a low grunt.

I turned my head as he put his hand on my shoulder. I started to move away, but he squeezed my shoulder, then ran his hand down my chest. I froze.

His fingers reached my waist and moved lower, his palm pressing against my manhood. I pushed his hand away and dug in my heels to scramble away.

Herger leaned back and held up his hands. "I mean you no _skade_ ," he said. I did not know the last word, but I could guess at its meaning. I went still, watching him. Herger waved his hand at me, gesturing for me to return to the fire.

I admit I felt as much curiosity as alarm. Herger was not trying to hurt me, but at the same time, it felt awkward to move back over to him.

Herger huffed an exasperated sigh. "You mean all the time you looked at me, you did not want this?" He was speaking to himself.

I was just as confused. How had I given him some impression that I wanted this?

No matter. Herger was approaching me, his hand out to show he meant no harm. I let him get close, on his knees next to me, and he put his hand on my chest again. The weight of his hand felt good, and his touch was warm. I thought of Roneth, wondering if this is what he had done with Herger; if it was safe for me to do the same. But the Northmen seemed to care not what Roneth did, so perhaps it was not such a risk.

"Let me," he whispered, making his tone soothing to convey a meaning I should not have understood. I looked at him, meeting his gaze. The Northmen rarely look me in the face, but Herger did. The intimate connection felt good.

His hand stroked gently over my chest and waist, soothing touches that turned teasing. He focused on my flanks, my nipples, and down toward the root of my manhood, and I was shocked to find myself responding to these touches. Even through my clothes, his touch awakened my body, making my nipples stiffen and ache, my manhood throb when his fingers danced near, and sending shivers up my body when he tickled my side. My breathing grew heavy and ragged, and my eyes heavy as well, but I could still see him watching me with a hungry expression.

Eventually he pulled his hand away and gestured at the fire. I swallowed nervously, but yearned for the warmth of the flames, and of Herger's touch. I shifted myself back over there, and Herger moved his bedroll closer to me. At another gesture from him, I lay down on it. Immediately I felt apprehension, lying supine and vulnerable. I crossed my hands over my chest and swallowed hard again.

Herger took my wrists and tugged them apart, leaving my torso unprotected. I rested my arms on the ground and Herger touched my chest again, stroking down to my waist. Finally he touched the band of my pants, asking permission. Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, I lifted my hips. He tugged down my pants, revealing my swelling manhood. The cool air felt good on my hot flesh.

Herger stroked his thumb along my shaft. I shuddered, responding to his touch with twitches of movement, a groan tearing from my throat. His calloused fingers reached the end of me and his hand closed delicately around my shaft, lifting my turgid flesh away from my testicles. Then Herger murmured his approval and ducked his head.

I closed my eyes just before his mouth touched me. I did not want to watch this, the barbarian with his unorthodox inclinations, because it would make me realize too keenly that I was sharing his desires. But I felt the touch of his mouth, soft lips and soft beard, softer tongue slipping out to taste the head of my manhood. I was shaking nonstop, keening, and heard, no, _felt_ him murmur again before he took me completely into his mouth.

It seemed as if he was consuming me, not in a physical sense, but pulling my very soul from my body. His mouth drew at my flesh with firm, slow pulls, each one in concert with the pounding of my heartbeat, making me ache with a sweet agony. I must have thrashed, because he put his arm over my hips and held me down while he took what he wanted. And I gave it to him: low cries, desperate thrusts into his mouth, sweat breaking out as I raced to fulfillment.

Then I felt his hand on my testicles, touching them gently, so lightly that it tickled, then more firmly with a squeezing touch. I felt my body come apart in ecstasy. When it happened, I believe Herger swallowed me, for that is how it felt, and my flesh throbbed and ached and was spent.  


I was unaware of his mouth holding me until he released me. The cold air hit my wet skin and brought another shiver, pulling me out of the dream-like state of bliss I was floating in. I opened my eyes and saw Herger watching me, the firelight making his blue eyes appear pale green like spring grass, and I trembled again under his gaze.

He knelt over me, and I realized then that his pants were unlaced and pushed down to mid-thigh. I saw a flash of his erect phallus, deep red with arousal, surrounded by golden hair. He braced himself on one hand and put his face in my throat, and the feel of his hot breath coming in gasps made my body hum with arousal. Delirious, I brought my hands up and touched him, feeling the solid softness of his hips and waist. His hand groped for mine and, fingers entwined, we gripped his manhood together. He was hot and hard as iron, and I felt a little wetness on my fingers. And then he began to stroke, forcing me to keep with his pace, while he gasped and groaned into my neck.

I welcomed it, heedless of propriety and my upbringing, my better nature seduced by his sybaritic ways. I gripped him loosely in one hand, his fingers strong against mine, with my other hand resting on his hot, smooth hip. I thought I heard him saying words, but I could not understand them. I only answered, "Herger, Herger…" until he too climaxed.

The force of his pleasure undid him, making him weak and insensate. He collapsed onto me, trapping our hands between our bodies, his face still pressed to my shoulder. I stroked his back up under his tunic and down beneath his loosened trousers, amazed at the feel of his skin, now dewy with sweat. His weight was comforting rather than stifling, and I could smell the wild earthy scent of his clothes and hair. In that moment I felt nothing but peace and happiness.

It was a marked change from the uncertainty and fear I had been feeling for months. I understood now why Roneth would make this private camp with him.

The thought of Roneth was a cold one, stealing some of my pleasure. I did not want to think of any of the other warriors now. I pushed the thought firmly out of my mind, and closed my eyes to focus on the pleasing smell of the muskiness of Herger's hair, so near my face.

Eventually Herger roused himself and sat back on his heels, using his cloak to wipe his emissions off his hand and stomach. I had much of the stuff on my hand as well, and used nearby fallen leaves to wipe most of it off. When we were both somewhat tidied, Herger got to his feet and turned his back on me, tending the fire. It did not truly need tending. It was clear that Herger had dismissed me.

I was confused by this, and almost said something before I remembered my secret concerning my knowledge of their language. Even after this, I did not want Herger to know the truth. Not yet. I could not tell what he would do with the knowledge, and further, what he would do when we rejoined the other warriors in the morning.

The thought sobered me utterly. Despite my intentions, I could not banish them from my mind for long. While Herger kept his back turned, I rose and repaired back to my bedroll. The other Northmen were settled for the night, and none made notice of my return.

I awoke abruptly to daylight and Herger standing over me, having nudged me awake with the toe of his boot. When he saw my eyes open, he walked away and went to his horse, already saddled.

"The sun climbs and that one still sleeps. Lazy as a bitch with a litter," Skeld said to Weath. Weath laughed. I rose hastily.

I had overslept. I began rushing to pack, praying that I would not hold us back long, for it might invite rebuke. Happily, I was saddled and seated in a matter of minutes. But as I kicked my horse's flanks, I saw Helfdane grinning at me with a dog's leer. He licked his lips obnoxiously and panted, sticking his tongue out.

I ignored him and did not respond, holding back to ride at the back of the group. But ahead, Helfdane engaged Herger in conversation.

"Bedded the bitch, did you?"

"Shut your mouth." Herger held a hunk of bread and took a bite out of it.

"Why so sensitive? We all know you to be a _pervers jævel_."

"At least my balls are empty." The rest of the group laughed loudly at this, which Herger seemed pleased about.

Helfdane sat up stiffly. "And so? I could bed a woman whenever I wanted."

"Oh, have you recently?" Herger turned to share a grin with Weath, who was still laughing.

"So how was the little Arab girl?" Helfdane asked. He smirked over his shoulder at me. I deliberately averted my eyes. "I would find out for myself…"

"That one is mine," Herger said coldly. A shiver ran down my spine.

I had no idea what he meant by that, but it occurred to me that he may claim me as his slave. After last night, it was not out of the realm of the possible. I had not considered this possibility, thinking that we were on equal terms with what we had done, particularly since he had approached me. But perhaps not.

It made me wonder: if I refused him, whether he would force me.

The Northmen clearly did not see Herger as less of a man, despite his predilections. So if he retained their respect, how did he do so? By asserting power or control over his partner? What was in store for me?

The Northmen had continued with their teasing discussion, the insults flying fast as I had been lost in thought. When I put my attention to their words again, the conversation had turned.

Herger paid me little attention throughout the remainder of the day.

I myself was distracted, thinking of the activities of the night before. Were I asked, I did not know if I would refuse Herger. No harm seemed to come to Roneth, either. Perhaps these men were as permissive as the highest members of Baghdad society, politely turning their attention away from those who seek particular pleasures.

But I could not spend my days lost in clouds of thought, imagining Herger to be a caring and thoughtful lover. I still did not know his intentions or habits. So, with an effort, I sought something else to think on.

But watching Herger ride led my thoughts astray. I noticed the strength of his legs as he handled the horse, the deft light movements when he stood in the stirrups or jumped down to the ground. I looked at his clothing, his leathers, the way the light caught his hair. I could not stop looking.

But the unknown was great. I could not jeopardize my freedom for some sexual gratification.

So, when the day passed and camp was made again, and Herger murmured my name and jerked his head toward his bedroll in the darkness, I shook my head.

I was scared at that moment. I did not know what he would do with a refusal. I watched him closely, my heart pounding in my throat.

His expression shifted from hopeful to dark and cross. His mouth soured and he spun on his heel, kicking at a fallen branch as he stalked to his bedroll.

I breathed a sigh of relief, mixed with regret, but my relief was short-lived. Herger gathered his things and brought them to the fire, joining the rest of the Northmen. They clearly noticed this, and looked curiously at me as Herger threw down his things. I had not anticipated that this decision would attract attention, but indeed it had.

Echoing the trepidation in my heart, thunder suddenly rolled over the skies. I realized that the wind had increased and the air smelled of rain. A few of the Northmen pulled heavy cloaks out of their saddlebags.

The sky was black with clouds. It looked like Hell spawning above us.

I took my share of food and ate quickly, wondering if the Northmen would erect a shelter. Being exposed in the elements like this made me feel a primal fear, fear that God would smite me with a bolt of lightning for the dishonor of lying with another man. But, as the Northmen did not move from the fireside, I forced myself to remain where I was.

Within a few minutes, the sky started to drop fat beads of rain. They came slowly at first, then with ever-increasing frequency until the air seemed to be water. I was afraid to breathe for drowning. I waited for the furious storm to stop, miserable in my wet clothing and water dripping into my eyes, nose, and mouth, but it did not stop. It only eased, to a steady, relentless downfall.

Even the Northmen seemed miserable with the rain—as miserable as I had ever seen them. The laughter and derisive conversations continued, of course, but they were subdued. I worked on ignoring the rain and learning more words.

* * *

It took nine days for the rain to stop. Even the Northmen seemed relieved when we awoke on the tenth day to clear skies. We rode ever onward.

* * *

After another two weeks, I felt that my skills were sufficient for me to reveal what I knew. We were sitting around the fire, eating and sharing stories. Rethel was speaking.

"Do not _fortel_ me wife, for I will get no supper when _jeg komme_ home tonight." His voice was different, and a smile played around his eyes.

"I don't sound like that." Halga looked affronted. Everyone laughed, for Rethel's imitation had been sound.

Herger was speaking too, in his own conversation to a few others. "Roneth slept with her, while we took the horses." He could barely withhold his grin.

Skeld was ever skeptical. "Blowhards, the both of you. She probably was some smokecolored campgirl. Look like that one's mother." He gestured in my direction with a leg of fowl. The laughter redoubled.

I took a breath and put the words in my mind. _Min mor._ "My mother…"

Everyone quieted and looked to me. I continued slowly. " _Var en ren kvinne. Fra en edel familien._ " Herger and Roneth stood, looking across the fire to me. I looked at Skeld, to respond to the man who had insulted my family. "And I at least know who my father is, you pig-eating son of a whore."

Skeld surged to his feet, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Herger rise at the same time. I stayed seated, knowing that I would either be beaten or Skeld would stop. I accepted this.

But Skeld was stopped by the others. They held him back, speaking to calm him, while Herger fought his way to stand in front of Skeld and confront me.

"Where did you learn our language?"

At that moment, some kind of fire burst into life within me. Here, now, was the end of their torment of me, because they would know what I could do—had been doing, for so long. I stood and whispered furiously, " _Jeg lyttet._ " I listened.

Herger stared at me for a moment longer, trying to comprehend. Then he accepted the disclosure, seemingly in an instant. His face creased into a grin, and he began laughing. I stared at him while he clapped me on the arms and shook me jovially. After all this time, and only now learning my secret, his reaction was laughter?

The rest of the group was totally silent. They stared at me, saying nothing. They were trying to change their opinions of me, having witnessed such an abrupt revelation. Herger sat down, still chuckling to himself.

Buliwyf was watching silently, impassive and emotionless as a statue. I avoided meeting his gaze.

But to my surprise, the Northmen relented in how often they made sport of me. Eventually, Buliwyf approached me with curiosity at my skills in reading and writing. When we broke camp the next day, there was some good-natured teasing that ended well, with me being able to show off what few skills I have as a horseman. I am fortunate to have, by the will of Allah, a light and swift mount.

We rode on and the day passed quickly. The weather improved, and the exercise of riding finally warmed me to a comfortable state. Although I was still cautious to be aware of the Northmen's behavior toward me, I felt more at ease than I had in all the time since first being attached to this endeavor.

When Herger rode over to me and matched my pace, I thought little of it.

He cleared his throat. I looked at him curiously, and he smiled. "Now we can have a conversation."

I nodded. "We could have for some time."

"You hid the truth well."

I looked at Herger curiously, wondering if there was more to that statement that I did not understand. But Herger seemed to think nothing of it, because he jerked his head and smiled invitingly.

"I…" I still had trouble forming sentences. "I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Am I your slave?" I chewed on the inside of my cheek after asking this.

Herger looked surprised, then scoffed. "Of course not."

"I mean…that is…you said I was yours."

"I did?" He did not seem to remember. Maybe it had no import, then.

"The day after…the night." How to say that we spent it together? I gave up, frustrated. Herger grasped my meaning, anyway.

"Oh, yes. I meant it not in that manner. It is…well, it is the same as campgirls. If you tell the others that one is yours, they will leave her alone."

"But…" I did not want to press the issue, precisely, but I was not comfortable with this. "You did not say Roneth is yours."

"He is a warrior, like everyone else."

My face heated. I had uncovered the burr under the saddle, but the discovery made it no less painful. "I am not a warrior, like everyone else. I know this. But I am also not your whore."

Herger scoffed, that short sound dismissing all that I had said. It angered me further, while he tried to placate me. "Eben. This is—"

"It is not?" I jerked on the reins and my horse tossed her head. Digging my heels into her sides, I made her take off at a run. I galloped up to the front of the group and reined in next to Buliwyf, who looked at me with curiosity but, reliably, said nothing.

I could hear a few warriors behind me murmur among themselves, but I ignored them.

I was hurt, yes, but angry more. I was angry with myself, for being flattered for even one second that Herger had desired me as another man to share pleasure with. In reality he had only wanted to use me, no differently than his horse or the girl he fucked after his evening meal. I detested him for this, and for making me want it.

* * *

Herger did not speak to me again for two days. In that time, I saw him go off with Roneth on both nights. Roneth cast me a confused look on the first evening before he strode off, but I turned away.

On the morning after the second night, I was occupied with packing my saddlebags when I overheard a conversation. I swear to God that I did not intend to listen, but they were speaking loudly enough that I could not close my ears to them, and when they mentioned Herger my attention was firmly caught.

Weath was laughing and speaking to Roneth. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. He wanted to fuck me. On my knees, at least…not on my back like a woman."

"What did you do?"

Roneth shrugged. "Pushed him away. I had taken my pleasure already. He tugged himself to climax and then we slept."

"Disgusting." Weath shuddered. "I do not know why you let him do that."

"It is a pleasurable diversion. But if he keeps up with his demands, I will put him in his place." Roneth patted his belt, where he had a short sword tucked. Weath nodded knowingly before taking up his bedroll and rolling it.

Roneth swung into the saddle and took up the reins. As he guided his horse out of the pack of animals, his gaze fell on me. The instant our gazes met, I knew he could see the comprehension in my face. His face turned pale with guilt or shame, but then he quickly turned his lip up in a snarl and kicked his heels into his horse's flanks, taking off with flying dirt.

While I was still watching Roneth ride away, Weath came up behind me. My horse whinnied and shied away from Weath's mount, as she is wont to do around people, other animals, clumps of grass, and wind, the foolish beast. In turning my attention to her, I realized that Weath was watching me.

"Arab. What did you hear?"

I pulled hard on the reins until my horse quieted, and I looked directly at Weath's eyes. "Nothing of consequence." It was no lie.

Weath studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "It is good that I believe you, because if you were to go to Herger, I would have to kill you for being a dishonorable man."

"You waste your breath." Beyond Weath, I saw Buliwyf mount his horse and begin riding. I jerked the reins. "We leave now."

Despite my casual manner, I concerned my thoughts with Weath's warning as we continued riding. I felt no care for what Herger did with Roneth, but I also did not want to see him die at the hand of a compatriot. My reason was purely devoted to our mission, of course: thirteen warriors had been sent north, and should only twelve arrive, perhaps this would bring down bad luck.

But if Herger made any change in his behavior, it might occur to Weath that I had said something. For this reason I would almost wish that Herger would proposition Roneth in the same way, but for him to do so would be a danger. I had a paradox.

But Allah is merciful and compassionate. For no reason I can discern, Herger chose not to approach anyone that evening, and stayed with the group when we made camp. Perhaps he had come to his senses.

Still, I noticed tension between the other men. Roneth ignored Herger completely, while Weath spoke to him with a sharp tongue. The elders watched it all with curiosity, and of course some hostility on the part of Hyglak. Buliwyf was mute and indiscernible, as ever.

After some attempts at conversation, Herger gave up and went quiet. When he did, it seemed some of the life went out of the fire. I sighed and put my attention to the roasted fowl I was eating.

An hour passed. Conversation renewed, although it was between the older warriors, who cared not for the energetic dealings between the younger men. Uncharacteristically, Herger was silent, watching carefully. I knew how he felt, suddenly to be an outcast and wondering how to draw the next breath.

Watching him, I saw a flicker of movement behind him. Some distance away, perhaps forty or fifty strides, there seemed to be something moving among the trees. I could not tell if it was man or animal, but it was moving far too smoothly and stealthily to be a harmless deer or some such thing. I strained to look, then glanced back at Herger.

He was watching _me_. Using only our eyes, he flicked his gaze to the side, as if asking _Behind me?_ I nodded in the tiniest movement I could make.

He put his hand on his sword hilt. Behind him, the shapes were closer, and now most definitely were the shapes of men. They were close and approaching fast. I nodded again.

With a roar, Herger surged to his feet and pulled his sword in one smooth motion. He turned and swung overhead, bringing his sword down in a chopping motion. The man behind him sprang back, just enough to avoid the blade. There were other men, who had weapons at the ready, and they rushed forward. My heart leapt into my throat for Herger, but he fended them off with another yell.

Now the other warriors were on their feet, weapons drawn and joining the fight. I stood and moved away, not having a weapon but my small dagger. Still, I drew it and watched for any man advancing.

But I did not see the blow, when it came. Something hard and heavy struck me high on my back, knocking the breath out of my body and sending me staggering. I fell to my knees and turned quickly, jabbing blindly with my dagger. The brute with a large club caught the tip of my blade in his stomach, and yelled while batting my hand away. Then he swung the club again, and while I was falling back to avoid him, it skipped against my temple with a blinding rush of pain. Then he was gone.

The fight was over in moments. The attackers fled back into the woods, dragging their wounded. The warriors relaxed, panting for breath, and eventually sat back around the fire. I heaved myself to my feet and returned to my place, checking my head for blood. There was none, but there would be a bruise. My head was throbbing and my vision swam. I quickly sat on my bedroll, before I fell on it.

"Herger has more eyes than the rest of us," Rethel commented mildly. Herger grinned.

"The Arab is my eyes. He saw them first." Herger raised his drink horn to me. I nodded in thanks.

"But he said nothing." Rethel examined me. "You are cunning, Arab."

"Were you injured?" Haltaf asked, his thin, young voice a surprise as always, for he spoke so seldom. I shook my head.

"The one with the club landed a few blows on him," Helfdane said. "I saw, before he came after me and I broke his hand."

"It is nothing," I said, putting firmness into my voice. I was tired of being perceived as soft. Now was the opportunity to prove otherwise.

Buliwyf suddenly appeared by my side. I had not noticed him rising from his place of repose. He carried a water skin.

Saying nothing, he held it out. I realized his intention and lifted my wooden cup. He filled the cup with a few splashes of water from the skin.

"Well done," he said quietly to me, and then walked away.

* * *

We held watch for the rest of that night, sleeping in shifts to be on guard against any further attacks. There were none. Few actually slept, however: I noticed several other warriors tossing without sleep, and Weath quietly masturbated. Evidently, the fight had stirred everyone's blood.

In the morning, my head still ached although the swelling had subsided. Herger said the side of my face was turning black with a bruise, and had a laugh at my expense. I tried to ignore him as we packed our horses, and found it easier when I diverted myself with thinking with pride at how quickly I had reacted to the raid. Buliwyf's gesture of respect had been particularly gratifying. I had not felt so included with these men like that since…

Since I had lain with Herger, I admitted to myself.

I looked ahead at him. Seemingly aware of my gaze, he turned and gave me a smile. It was a true smile, genuinely full of happiness and a little bit of mischievousness, and it ignited a smile of my own in return.

That night we reached the coast. We did not come across a port city, so would have to travel the water line until we found one, and then could obtain a ship for further passage. We camped again, in the woods off a rocky shore.

As I served myself food and began to eat, Herger joined me with his own dish. He sat close, and our knees touched as we ate.

Eventually we finished, and Haltaf cleaned the camp. Herger took out his mead horn and began to drink.

"Eben," he said after a few sips. I looked at him, but he was gazing peacefully at the fire. He spoke without looking at me.

"We are brothers, yes?"

Brothers. Surely he did not mean by blood. I nodded, though with hesitation.

"You saved my life, and my honor. I value this. I would not sacrifice it. So, I will not again ask you to make a bed with me."

The moment he suggested giving up something he obviously valued, I felt immediate empathy. How could I ask anyone to give up anything they loved? It did not matter how I felt about it; I considered only how he felt.

Herger looked at me, saw my expression, and snorted a laugh. "Stop that."

"What?" Herger laughed, shaking his head. "Stop what?" I asked again.

"Stop looking at me with those moon eyes. I have made my decision."

"But—" I lowered my voice. "How can you force this on yourself?"

"Eben." His tone turned serious. That searing blue gaze turned onto me. "I have been through _tørke_ and I have seen _velstand._ Such is the lot the fates threw for me. My fortune will change."

Like a child, as soon as this thing was taken from me, I wanted it. I wanted to tell Herger to change his mind. I was willing to give him what he wanted, to be happy. I had seen what a chill was left when his happiness was gone. There was a reason the other Northmen called him Joyous.

But he had made his decision, and looked resolute. I sighed and nodded. "As you say."

"And the gods may bring new fortune soon." Herger lifted his horn and drank deeply, a smile making his eyes dance. "Tomorrow we go to find a ship, and the last of our journey."

"At long last," I muttered. I was weary of riding and sleeping on the ground, and longed to see the kingdom we were going to save. At least it would mean a bath and a bed. I voiced this hope to Herger.

He laughed. "I doubt you will be able to get comfortable. There is much more for you ahead, my friend."

I was becoming accustomed to his teasing. But being called a friend…that was a new experience, one that warmed my heart. Praise be to God, for by the grace of Allah I have found a companion even here, so far from my home.


End file.
